Sharing joy...one sweet story at a time.
4 books for FREE! 4 books at 99c each!
Do books give you the warm fuzzies? Make your day brighter?
Me too!
So, from December 26-28, here’s a feel-good, cozy gift from me to you! Let’s send of 2021 with a bang… of books!
A lot of the enjoyment I get from writing is in the research. Here are some of the gems I uncovered in my latest book!
Here are the Top 9 things I learned during the creation of Forget Me Not, Elizabeth:
1. Forget-me-nots haven’t always been so romantic.
The forget-me-not (translated from 1530s Old French ne m’oubliez mye) was worn by lovers to ensure they never forgot each other. However, these delicate, blue flowers were known as ‘scorpion-grass’ in England until the early 19th century. Not nearly as romantic…
2. The Royal Navy’s uniform was inspired by a woman. Fashion matters! (Says the person wearing a t-shirt and yoga pants…)
3. Ironically, the originator of the theory that a second blow to the head will cure amnesia…apparently died of a head injury.
4. As early as the 1700s, electronic stimulators were available to the public for treating the brain. Shocking!
5. Frankenstein was inspired by the experiments of 2 eccentric Italians who believed they could bring people back to life with electricity. The uncle-nephew duo’s experiments were both grotesque and extremely popular.
6. Bedlam, the famous insane asylum, was a tourist attraction often compared to the Palace of Versailles.
The fancy façade disguised crumbling walls and deplorable living conditions for the patients inside.
7. Belladonna, or Nightshade, was the go-to beauty treatment for rich women.
The flowers made a lovely rouge and the oil, used as eyedrops, dilated the pupils, making eyes appear larger. The berries are sweet. Too bad they’re so very deadly.
8. If you want to attract a swarm of bees (like many people do), use a brood comb.
One of the gentlemanly pastimes of the Regency era was beekeeping, not so much for the bees but for the science. They might have used this method to attract bees and further their studies.
9. Mr. Collins was not a very nice beekeeper (according to the ’95 BBC film adaptation, anyway.) Regency beekeepers used straw skeps to house their hives, which, unfortunately for the bees, meant that collecting their honey was a murderous business.
What do forget-me-nots, uniforms, bees, belladonna, Bedlam, blows to the head, and Frankenstein have to do with Darcy and Lizzy?
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What could possibly go wrong on Darcy’s wedding day? Hmm…
Fitzwilliam Darcy checked his pocket watch again. The seconds did not tick any faster for his constant scrutiny. Fifteen minutes had never felt so long. Longer than the last year and half during which he had met, felt himself in danger of, and fallen in love with Elizabeth Bennet.
He glanced through the open entrance door to the carriage which would convey him and Bingley to Longbourn’s chapel. The horses pawed impatiently. Darcy resumed pacing.
After another turn about the hall, he paused by the doors. Pulling out the ring he had selected especially for Elizabeth, he held it up to the morning sun, appreciating how the light gleamed crimson reflections off the polished garnets. Five glistening, red gemstones shaped into a forget-me-not encased with gold stretching around the band symbolized everything he had already promised in his heart to give Elizabeth: faithfulness, dependability, constancy, love, his very self.
He had fallen in love with her despite his best efforts to the contrary. Despite her better judgment, he thought with a chuckle. How proud he had been — insulting her, leaving her vulnerable to others’ self-serving lies, and demeaning everyone she held dear in a madcap declaration of his undying love. Of course, he had expected her to throw herself at his feet, grateful he would condescend to make an offer for her when he had so graciously overcome all the obstacles he had taken pains to enumerate. What a fool he had been.
Thank goodness their worst troubles were in the past, the valuable lessons learned and applied. It was easy — even for Darcy — to laugh at their faults now.
He had won Elizabeth’s heart, and he would cherish it all the more, knowing she gave her his hand in full understanding of his weaknesses (of which she was foremost). While Darcy was tempted to believe his lessons learned and his pride conquered, his character was too firmly formed to believe such deeply ingrained tendencies entirely subjugated. But he would always exert himself for Elizabeth.
He loved her so much. She demanded as much from him as he demanded from others, forcing him to soften his expectations and leaving more place in his heart for her. Would that she remained the same always.
Tucking the ring back into his pocket, he glanced again at his pocket watch.
Two minutes passed. With a grimace, he resumed his pacing.
Were it up to him, he would have applied for a common license and married Elizabeth weeks ago in a small, private ceremony. However, Elizabeth’s eyes had sparkled like flutes of champagne when Bingley had suggested a double wedding. Blast Bingley.
Darcy was not so cruel as to separate Elizabeth from her family before she was ready, and so he had been forced to develop patience as he waited for the banns to be read, contenting himself that he would not have to share her once they were wed. He had dutifully informed his family, his invitation lackluster in an attempt to discourage them from attending for that very reason. Otherwise, his relatives (except for his aunt Catherine) would descend on them and he would have to share Elizabeth, and he had waited long enough. Surely, a gentleman ought not be deprived of his wife after the ceremony and the wedding breakfast.
Soon, this same morning, he would give his name to Elizabeth. Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. He would swear before God, her family, and friends that he would never part from her side from that day forward. He would love her and cherish her so long as they both lived. The blessed day had finally arrived, and Darcy was impatient to begin his life with the woman he adored.
He checked his pocket watch again and groaned. Ten minutes. The longest ten minutes of his life.
Want more? Grab your copy here!
When working together to solve a mystery is the surest path to love… Darcy and Elizabeth are the main targets — for Cupid and for crime — in a new Mysteries & Matrimony standalone novel.
Here’s a taste of the adventure that awaits you.
Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Elizabeth Bennet wrinkled her nose at her signature. Much too commanding and formal. Dipping her quill into the inkwell, she tested another variant.
Mrs. Lizzy Darcy. She twisted her lips. That was not quite right either. Far too inelegant, informal … no matter how lovely the “L” swooped and curled on the page.
Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. She sighed contentedly, signing her forthcoming name once more, exaggerating the loop on the “Y” with flourish. Nearly perfect.
She filled the cream surface with the surname she would forever use once she signed her name beside her husband’s in the marriage register that morning.
Her husband. Elizabeth’s heart hummed. The three previous weeks, during which the banns had been read, were a torture, forcing her to be patient when she would rather not, but today was her reward. Finally, she would marry the man she truly, deeply, madly — nay, not madly. Never that! — ardently … Yes, ardently loved.
Intrigued? You can pre-order your copy here.
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First of all, I want to give a special shout-out to Sarah Powell, who was instrumental in helping me settle on a spy name worthy of Fitzwilliam Darcy. (We couldn’t let Richard choose The Purple Pansy, now, could we?) Thank you, Sarah! Mr. Darcy is ever grateful.
Pouring another glass and handing it to Darcy, Richard said, “To a job well done! I salute you, Cousin.”
“It is too early in the day to imbibe.”
Richard shrugged, tossing back the contents of his glass. Smacking his lips together, he grinned. “It is not too early when one has been up all night, and it is never too early to celebrate. The papers caught wind of the story, and they have printed a flattering account of how the French spies were thwarted once again by an anonymous son of England.” He produced the offensive article from his breast pocket.
Darcy turned away from it. “They glorify unlawful rebels in the same paragraph in which they extol the cleverness of the men who prevent them from selling secrets to the enemy.”
“Allow me to reassure you on that point. They said nothing of your cleverness.”
Darcy glared at Richard.
The ingrate’s grin widened. “You ought to embrace your fame, Darcy. When the war is over, they will proclaim you a hero. Already, there is talk of your nom de guerre. I am rather partial to The Oxford Orchid, although I admit there is a romantic appeal to The Crimson Carnation.”
Darcy’s fists clenched. “Ridiculous!”
“Do you prefer The Purple Pansy?”
Darcy should have accepted the drink Richard had offered him. Then he would have had something to throw at his cousin’s smirking face.
Mr. Darcy, secret agent man? What?!
So, when will Chasing Elizabeth be published? VERY soon, I promise!
Elizabeth Bennet flung off her covers, morning chill and anticipation prickling her skin and awakening her senses. She had to leave quickly if she were to leave at all.
Every floorboard groaned. Every breath thundered. Every brush of fabric as she donned her costume scratched. Sounds nobody heard during the daytime deafened at dawn, and no matter how many times Elizabeth had performed this same routine, the nerve-tingling urgency and panic never ceased to accompany her.
She could not risk waking the household.
Plaiting her hair and pinning it in place, she reached in the dim light for the brooch she always left beside her book on the bedside table. It was her favorite — the one Uncle Gardiner had bought for her in Italy ages ago, before the war. Elizabeth ran her finger tenderly over the uneven stones — emerald malachite; bright turquoise; vibrant lapis lazuli; and aventurine in Spring grass green, Summer sun yellow, and Autumn orange — carefully arranged in an intricate, miniature puzzle creating a colorful mosaic of the Italian countryside. She would travel there. Someday.
Until that blessed day, Elizabeth wore her uncle’s thoughtful gift on the lapel of her riding habit with pride. Were it not for her dear aunt and uncle’s efforts on her behalf, she doubted her father would allow her and her sisters to venture so far as even London.
That Aunt and Uncle Gardiner had persuaded him to allow Elizabeth to accompany them North through Derbyshire the approaching summer — where her aunt had spent most of her youth — was a modern-day miracle. They might even travel farther to the Lake District. Elizabeth hoped so.
Less than two months remained until her grand adventure. Forty-seven days to be precise. Forty-seven days which could not pass by quickly enough to suit Elizabeth.
Her morning escapades were her only relief from the tedium of watching the clock tick through the never-ending days.
What is Elizabeth up to? Will she get her adventure?
Mix a sweet romance with a dollop of mystery, and what do you get? A new swoon-worthy JAFF novel featuring my favorite detective duo!
This summer, we visited my family in Oregon and California. I was wrapping up my latest cozy mystery and was chomping at the bit to return to Regency England.
Since airport layovers offer plenty of time for reflection and my kiddos were happy watching The Pink Panther, my hubby and I had this discussion:
Me: “I’m so excited to start my next project, but I don’t know who to kill next. Who do you think?”
Hubby: “Who have you killed so far?”
Me: “Hmm, let’s see … well, as much as I’d like to, I can’t kill Wickham again.” (That’s not really a spoiler. What mystery writer wouldn’t kill him first?!)
Hubby: “What about methods?”
Me: “Poison is my favorite. Pistols are too bloody.”
(It was at this point that the woman sitting behind us at Gate 7B got up and moved.)
So that’s how our vacation began. And by the end of it, I had a story. This story!
You see, my mom is a writer too. We were throwing ideas around when she said: “Why not kill XXX next?”
It was just the “Ah-ha!” moment I needed. The story started unfolding and I typed as fast as I could to keep up. I have to say that I absolutely love this Darcy and his interfering wingman.
So, thank you, Mom! And thank you, Airport Lady, for not calling security on me!
Here’s The Elizabeth Conspiracy! Isn’t the cover pretty?
Here’s what it’s about:
Can Darcy and Elizabeth set aside their prejudices long enough to avoid the hangman’s noose?
Elizabeth Bennet values goodness and charm — both qualities Mr. Darcy blatantly lacks.
Fitzwilliam Darcy values wit and strong opinions — qualities with which Miss Elizabeth is generously armed.
A refused proposal turns into a battle of wills when Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth are forced to endure each other’s company at the beautiful estate of Rosings. When an unlikely enemy reveals herself — and ends up dead — fingers are eager to point at Elizabeth. With the residents of Rosings conspiring against her, will Elizabeth’s clever mind secure her freedom? Or will her prejudice against Mr. Darcy poison her against her greatest ally?
As suspicions rise and the evidence mounts, Elizabeth learns the value of a loyal friend and the forgiveness of love … but will it be too late?
Darcy would sacrifice his good name, worldly possessions, and family’s expectations to save the woman he loves … if he can win her heart before he loses it all.
Grab your copy at Amazon here!
Happy Reading!
What must a lady do to receive a decent proposal?
After refusing an atrocious proposal from a gentleman she dislikes, Elizabeth Bennet wishes she had never come to Hunsford. Foolish decisions and silent tongues conspire against Elizabeth, bringing accusations against her and those whom she holds dear when a valuable pair of diamond earrings go missing from Rosings. Elizabeth finds a surprising ally in Mr. Darcy— the man she had so recently refused. Can Elizabeth see past her prejudice to understand her own heart? Or will she ruin her prospects to protect her friends?
Fitzwilliam Darcy’s dream of a happy union is dashed to pieces when Elizabeth Bennet irrevocably refuses his offer. Sincere in his affections, he determines to win her heart. If only he can defend her when his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, suspects Elizabeth and Miss Maria Lucas of theft. Can Darcy overcome the obstacles his relatives place before him on the path to love? Will Elizabeth give him a second chance?